


Boy Talk

by notenoughtogivebread



Series: Klaine Advent 2014 [17]
Category: Glee
Genre: Gen, Noncanon compliant future fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:09:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27595954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notenoughtogivebread/pseuds/notenoughtogivebread
Summary: Written for Klaine Advent 2014 prompt Rent. A slightly AU future fic--Blaine is studying music education at Fordham, Kurt still at NYADA, with Klaine living in the loft; set while the boys are married and still in school in NYC; Blaine and Artie chat after a Monday night dinner.
Relationships: Artie Abrams & Blaine Anderson, Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Series: Klaine Advent 2014 [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/292091
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Boy Talk

The budget was tight, tighter than Blaine had expected. He just couldn’t work the hours Kurt did, not without setting up a host of problems. He was working hard at Fordham trying to catch up, but he hadn’t been able to go full time yet. His first student teaching was looming, and that would be stressful enough on its own. But it also meant he’d have to cut back on his piano students, and their tight finances would just get tighter. He tried to make up for not being able to handle hours at the diner on top of school by shopping carefully and managing their food supplies, but he had to face that being married and students wasn’t really all that different from being single and students. Except the part where he felt even more guilt about asking his parents for help. Lately he’d been thinking that the loft might not be affordable anymore. 

Unless… 

Artie had come over for Monday night dinner, and after, Kurt had retreated behind the curtains to his sewing machine to work on his project for his costuming minor. Blaine and Artie had settled down to Mario Kart when he asked him. “Hey, Artie. Do you ever think about moving out of the dorms?” 

Artie glanced at him quizzically. “Well, I’ll have to next year when I graduate. I’m not looking forward to it, though, to be honest.” 

“Why not? I’d think the independence would be a good thing.” 

Artie blushed, then paused the game. “But that’s just the thing, Blaine. There are limits…part of the deal at school is there’s a personal care aide available in the dorm. I don’t need Tom’s help for much, but if I’m in a hurry and need to use the less-accessible shower in our hall, he can help me with the transfers. And—well, like, you’ve seen the dorm. It’s mostly accessible, but Tom’s a big help in the laundry room. Most of the dryers are just too high for me to reach. When I’m on my own, a guy like Tom—that will be a luxury I can’t afford. 

“And then there’s the separate hassle of actually finding accessible housing. It will be quite an undertaking. And that’s not even counting the pressure from Mom to just come back to Ohio.” 

“So—what if you moved in here?” 

“Um, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but a clawfoot tub? Not generally considered accessible.” 

“But, except for that, we’ve been able to adapt this space for our changing needs before. We could easily adapt it for you. Lower some counters, stuff like that.” 

“Blaine. I still have to take a shower; even if we put a bath chair in the tub, I wouldn’t be able to transfer into that monstrosity on my own. And the expense of that on top of the rent…” 

“But here you’d be splitting the rent three ways. And what do you mean, expense? I could help you get into the shower.” 

Artie frowned. “You do realize that I’m naked when I take a shower?” 

Blaine put down the abandoned game and laughed ruefully. “Uh, I’m a gay guy. I’m kind of used to naked guys—and like, _I’m_ a naked guy.” 

Artie wheeled away across the room, putting the table between him and Blaine. 

“Think about it. You could save money to get your own place once we all have jobs and are better able to afford it.” 

“I don’t know, Blaine…” 

But Blaine was caught up in the thought of more meals that weren’t ramen-based. He jumped up and started walking all around the space, visualizing it from Artie’s point of view. “We could give you a workspace over here by the door.” 

“But, the piano—” 

“We’ll figure it out. And, well, we could move your bedroom further from me and Kurt because, well…” 

“Blaine. Blaine. I still haven’t gotten past the point where you’re all up in my junk.” 

“What? No. Artie, I’m not interested in your…” he waved his hand in the general direction of Artie’s crotch. 

Artie looked down and away, shamefaced and nervous. “Yeah. Because you don’t see me as a sexual creature.” 

Blaine dropped into a chair next to his friend. “Hey, I think after that STD scare, I know that. It’s just…” He shrugged, at a loss. 

Artie folded his hands in his lap, the way he did when he was trying to be reasonable with the unreasonable, like Mr. Schu or Coach Sue. “Well, there’s knowing. And there’s—” His eyes were big behind his glasses. “Taking it seriously, I guess.” 

“What? You don’t think I think you’re a guy? But Artie, you’re—your shoulders have gotten like, broader than Sam’s, I swear. And…” 

“You’re not possibly trying to say you find me hotter than Sam.” 

Blaine chuckled. “Well, still. You’ve got your own thing going. And the hipster nerd chic. And you always have the coolest bicycle gloves—” He picked up Artie’s new black and red fingerless gloves from the table. “They’re sort of badass.” 

“You bought me those for my last birthday.” 

“Still badass.” 

Artie sighed. “That’s just it, though. A week or 2 of hauling my skinny ass into the tub and you won’t think I’m so badass. You’ll think I’m … weak. Or a little kid.” 

Oh. Blaine’s brow was furrowed as he tried to envision thinking of Artie—bossy, self-contained Artie—as somehow a little kid, considering he’d spent half of his senior year in high school trying to earn the other boy’s approval. 

“Artie, do you think I’m less a man because I need Kurt to remind me every day to take my meds?” 

“No! You know that! It’s just, trust me, it’s different.” 

“I don’t think it’s so different.” He sighed, then hid his disappointment by stacking up the dirty dishes to carry them to the sink. He kept his back turned as he filled the sink with soapy water. 

Artie was quiet for a moment, then reached back to grab the Tupperware from his backpack. “Here, let me divide up the leftovers,” he said, and they worked together silently to clean up the kitchen and the table. 

Artie turned from the fridge, where he’d put away the last of the lasagna, and Blaine felt his eyes studying him across the kitchen. “Best meal of my week, you know that, right?” 

“Yeah. No matter where you end up getting a place, we have to keep up Monday dinners.” 

“It’s more like Monday dinners and Wednesday lunches…” 

Blaine turned and leaned against the sink. “Yeah. My mom’s lasagna recipe feeds an army.” He laughed. “It’s actually Mrs. Duval’s recipe. Nick’s mom—he was a Warbler, and I stayed nights at his place when we were both working at King’s Island. I guess I came home raving about his Mama’s cooking enough times… Thing is, she WAS feeding an army. I think Nick has like 5? 6? brothers and sisters—or maybe some of them were cousins. Anyway, I guess I forget it’s just us three now.” 

“Saves money, though. I mean, I’m gonna be able to put aside some cash into my ‘stay in NYC’ fund this week.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I know you’re just trying to figure out how you can keep affording this place. Maybe—I don’t know, I keep thinking that maybe next year, like some of the McKinley kids might want to join us here—like Kitty. Or even Roderick. Tina was talking about it, too. So, we just hold on? Anyway, thanks for the offer, you know? Even if it’s—well, a terrible idea.” 

Blaine barked out a laugh, conceding defeat. “What the hell—it’s your life, and your decision. C’mon. Let’s get back to the game.” 

Artie paused on his way across the loft, his hand tentative on Blaine’s arm. “We’re okay, though?” 

“Yeah. It was just an idea.” 

“How about we leave it that if I’m losing the argument with my mom, this can be my temporary trump card?” 

“Deal.” 

“What’s a deal?” Kurt asked, pausing between his sewing room in Rachel’s old space and their bedroom. 

“Nothing,” said Blaine, already focused on the game, and would have waved Kurt away, but Artie, laughing, said, “Your husband wanted to play sexy male nurse with me.” 

“Artie!”


End file.
